Stakeout
by Arigol
Summary: Starsky tells Hutch to 'shut up'. This was written for the 'Silence Hutch' challenge on the Me and Thee List.


**Stakeout**

"Will you shut up?" Starsky snapped.

Hutch had been on his case for the last three hours, moaning about the Torino; complaining that the scent of Starsky's new and expensive aftershave set off his allergies. Added to that was the constant harping about his diet, his lack of exercising, and his clothes.

Hutch gave a start. "I'm only saying…"

"You're saying too much. I'm sick of your constant complaints. Nothin' I ever do is right." Starsky poked his partner on the arm. "How about some peace and quiet for a change. Huh?"

"You can't take a little bit of criticism can you, buddy? Hey, if your best friend can't tell you then who can?" Hutch retaliated.

"You're so friggin' superior ain't ya, college boy?" Starsky gritted his teeth and looked out into the darkened street. He didn't know why Hutch was behaving in this hurtful way but he would have expected his friend to quit before it got too heavy.

They bantered and competed all the time but there had never anything nasty about it until today's stakeout at a warehouse. Starsky hated stakeouts and they were usually only made bearable by the long conversations he shared with Hutch. They had taken over the midnight to 8am shift but this time their usual camaraderie had fragmented in a very short time.

"Starsky, I'm only telling you for your own good!" Hutch said

"You think you're so smart don't ya? Mr. 'rich kid' Hutchinson with his privileged background and expensive education knows more than the street kid from Brooklyn does he?" Starsky turned to stare at his partner. " You know how to rub that in and sure don't know when to shut up do you?"

Hutch's skin reddened and his eyes darkened with anger. "Okay, Starsky, if that's what you want I'll shut up." Folding his arms across his chest, he stared out into the street.

"Fine," Starsky replied. "The sound of silence sounds real good right now."

After an hour of total quiet and, as his boredom reached new levels, Starsky became irritated. He tapped his hands on his knees, on the wheel; he whistled and hummed 'The Sound of Silence' for he liked Simon and Garfunkel's songs and this one just fitted the situation. After a while though, he got fed up with the quietness, turned to his partner, and smiled. "Hey, Hutch, is there any coffee left in the thermos?"

Hutch shrugged his shoulders.

Sighing, Starsky reached for the thermos then opened it. "Shit it's empty. Being on stakeout is so dull!" There was no reply and he stared at his partner. "Don't you agree?"

Again Hutch shrugged.

Suspicious now, Starsky frowned as he saw the stubborn set of Hutch's jaw. "Ain't ya talkin' to me?"

Hutch shook his head.

Starsky could not believe that his friend would behave so childishly. "Why not?" he asked.

Hutch grimaced and clasped his hands loosely in his lap.

"For Chrissake, Hutch, what kinda game are you playin'?" Starsky asked. Hutch could be difficult at times but he was never petty. Starsky **had** noticed at the beginning of their shift that something was bothering Hutch but had assumed his friend would speak about when he was ready.

Hutch rolled his eyes then leaned his elbow against the window and his chin on his hand.

For all their almost psychic connection there were times Starsky could not fathom his partner out. Like now for instance. "Hutch will ya quit messing around. I'm dying of boredom here!"

There was no response so sick of being ignored and getting annoyed now; Starsky yanked Hutch's arm from the window. Glaring daggers at him, Hutch pulled away. He sat there still and unyielding and Starsky cursed as he realised that Hutch was in a real snit now and it was going to be difficult to snap him out of it.

"Okay, Hutch, what's going on in that blond head of yours?" When there was no response he decided to change tactics. Hutch could never resist what he called those 'puppy dog' eyes that Starsky used whenever he **really** wanted his own way. "Hutch, hey, buddy, you ain't mad at me are ya?"

Hutch took a very deep breath, and then reaching in his pocket pulled out a notebook and pencil. Starsky squinted trying to read the words but his partner turned his back and with a grimace he sat back and waited.

After a few seconds, the notebook was thrust in his face and he read //_You wanted me to shut up so I have_.//

Starsky could not believe how farcical this had become. "Aw c'mon buddy, I didn't mean it."

_//You did_.//

"I didn't," Starsky denied. "I mean I did but not like this. I just wanted you to stop criticising me."

_//Too bad. I'm done talking to you.// _

Hutch glanced sideways at him, his expression showing his determination to continue this ridiculous charade. Starsky knew that Hutch could be moody and remote when he chose. In fact his reputation at the academy and in his later police career had been one of polite reservation, and an almost impersonal, analytical attitude. Except of course until Starsky. Many people, some of them cops who had worked with Hutch, could not understand how two such opposites had bonded. Hutch had lowered his guard with Starsky and allowed him into his heart. He was warm, affectionate, and extremely supportive and Starsky was privileged to be his closest friend.

If, however, Hutch decided to give him the cold shoulder Starsky didn't know how he would cope! He was dependent on his partner for so much and dreaded things changing between them.

"Aw, Hutch, don' be mad at me," he tried his best wide-eyed look and pleading tone that **always **worked. "Hey, I'll buy you breakfast when we're off shift. We can go to that vegetarian place you like."

_//You know what you can do with your breakfast'//_

Starsky chewed at his lip. That obstinate jut of Hutch's jaw told its own tale. He needed to break through or else this stupidity could continue for the whole shift.

"Hutch, please, will ya quit this? Hey, I'm sorry if I annoyed you." Starsky placed a hand on Hutch's shoulder and squeezed. "Buddy?"

Hutch pulled away then ignored him.

"Shit," Starsky muttered, perturbed that even his apology had not made a difference.

000

Hutch was aware of the tension in the car. Trying to shut it out he concentrated on the warehouse door but it was difficult as Starsky, obviously upset, shifted around in his seat. Hutch sighed. If he was being honest with himself Starsky was not to blame for the migraine that had plagued him all day, nor the call from his parents that had angered him, and had just been a convenient target for Hutch's earlier griping. Once he had started it had been impossible to stop and it had gone too far. He couldn't understand why he'd done it but now that he had initiated the silence he couldn't back down.

In a twisted way, on seeing how it shook Starsky up, he enjoyed playing mind games with his partner. Another part of him though was disgusted with himself for taking advantage of his good-natured friend and he wondered how to end the stupid situation without losing face.

"Sometimes I don't understand you, Hutch," Starsky said, in a strained voice. "You spend hours criticising everything about me then when I finally tell you to shut up you go and do this! I love ya, buddy, but that superior attitude of yours really pisses me off."

Hutch almost gave up his silence at that but some devil prodded him to continue. //_Tough Shit_,// he wrote in big, bold letters.

The atmosphere in the car shifted and grew frosty as Starsky's shoulders tautened and his eyes narrowed. Danger signals that Hutch recognised. "Yeah, well, Hutchinson you can take your attitude and you can stuff it." His tone was low and serious. "I'm sick and tired of your games. Do me a favor and go aggravate someone else for a change."

That startled Hutch especially after the pleading tone of only minutes ago. He pursed his lips and wondered what to do. Starsky had been angry and hurt, before, but now Hutch recognised his partner's street tough manner and that didn't bode well for him. Hutch couldn't win when Starsky was like this, as the punks they arrested found to their cost. Without doubt he had overdone it this time. He rubbed at his eyes, wondering why he sometimes behaved this way. It wasn't fair on Starsky and it was time he did the right thing and apologised. The last thing he wanted was for their relationship to be damaged.

Starsk was too important to him.

Until he had met Starsky, he had drifted through various casual friendships and been dissatisfied with them all; even Jack Mitchell who had been the closest he had known to a real buddy. He always had believed the problem to be some kind of lack in himself and that included his failed marriage to Vanessa.

Then at the academy Starsky had burst into his life and nothing had ever been the same again. When they had become partners their affection for one another had intensified to a level that Hutch could scarcely believe. Now he depended on his tough but warm and childlike partner not only his life on the job but for the wonderfully deep and supportive relationship they shared.

He was about to speak when Starsky murmured, "Window."

Hutch took in the dark shape of a man dropping from a low window at the side of the warehouse. Starsky opened the car door, stealthily easing to a low crouch on the ground. Hutch did the same and, communicating by hand signals, both men ran towards the suspect.

"Police," Starsky surprised the man who swivelled around in fear.

"Don't shoot," the punk pleaded, as he saw the gun aimed at him. "I ain't done nothing."

"Who's inside? What're they doing?" Starsky demanded, cocking his gun.

"Landon's there checkin' a cocaine shipment. I ran when I saw him and his goon," the man croaked in fear. "Don't wanna do business with them."

"Cuff him, call for back up. I'm going inside," Starsky said, and before Hutch could respond he had hoisted himself up through the open window.

"Starsk!" Hutch called to the empty space.

Seeing his distraction, the punk made a run for it. Hutch chased him, finally cornering him in an alley. "Hands in the air," he yelled.

The man came to a halt but struggled as Hutch tried to cuff him. Finally, getting him secured to a drainpipe, Hutch decided against requesting backup for he had a gut feeling that something bad was going down. Cursing over the time wasted on restraining the man, he ran back to the open window and climbed into the building. In the darkness he couldn't see any signs of his partner but following his instincts walked along the dirty hallway towards a door. Approaching it, he heard a sound he had been dreading.

"You're gonna die, cop," a raspy voice said.

_Damn you, Starsky, why didn't you wait for me? _

He knew the answer. If they had been working in tandem Starsky wouldn't have gone in on his own. That recklessness that Hutch usually curbed in his partner had surfaced because of **his** crass behaviour. Now to protect his partner, he was going to have to deal with the situation.

He opened the door enough to see his partner disarmed and held by a large goon while another man held a gun to his head. '_No way, Mister_.' Hutch aimed the magnum at the perp. "Police," he shouted.

Startled, the man swivelled and fired his gun. Hutch discharged his weapon, flung himself to the ground, and just missed being hit by a bullet. Rising onto his knees, he held the magnum out in front of him but the perp was lying moaning on the ground, clutching at his leg, his gun several feet away.

Taking advantage of the diversion, Starsky twisted in the goon's grip and using street tactics to good measure soon had the upper hand and the man cuffed.

Hutch picked up the dropped gun and checked the room. "Starsk, are you all right?"

His partner looked over at him; annoyance mixed with relief in his eyes. "Are you talkin' to me now?"

Ashamed now, Hutch nodded. "Yeah, hey…."

"You call backup?"

"Uh, no, I…"

"Keep them covered. I'll do it." With that he sprinted out of the room.

Hutch groaned to himself knowing that major grovelling could be necessary now.

000

It was daylight when the perps were taken away in black and whites, and the cocaine confiscated. Starsky was about to start up the Torino when a strong grip on his arm stopped him.

"Hey, buddy, I'm sorry for being such an asshole." Hutch apologised.

Normally, Starsky could never remain upset with Hutch for long but last night had really ticked him off. "Oh yeah!"

"I shouldn't have taken things out on you, buddy. I have no excuses. The last thing I want to do is torment you."

"So why did you?" Starsky asked, curious now.

"I guess you were an easy target." Hutch fidgeted, looking over at him.

He couldn't maintain his anger when Hutch was so contrite but his partner had to pay somehow, and the perfect idea hit him. "You gotta do our reports for the next month."

Hutch smiled in obvious relief. "Sure. Whatever your little heart desires, buddy."

Starsky knew that Hutch had to be feeling very guilty to agree. "Well how about that! Okay, buddy let's go…but Hutch," Starsky hung an arm around his partner's neck and shook him. "You gotta tell me what's been buggin' you."

Hutch flushed and nodded. "Okay, I will and Starsk, I really **am** sorry."

"Sorry enough to buy me breakfast at Angie's Diner?" Starsky asked, knowing he was pushing it for Hutch hated the place.

Hutch groaned but he grinned. "Okay."

"Jeez I could kiss ya, Hutch," Starsky teased, leaning in close.

"Hey I'm not **that** sorry!"

With a laugh, Starsky drew back. Breakfast awaited him and time was a wasting!

The End


End file.
